


Yarn of Time

by KillerGirlFuria



Series: Canon Patchworking with Uchiha Ren [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Letters, Will be added as they appear - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9575477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillerGirlFuria/pseuds/KillerGirlFuria
Summary: Omake series to Canon Patchworking with Uchiha Ren. Can feature nearly everything, including AUs, Crossovers, One-Shots, Omakes, and many more, as long as they're connected to main CPwUR story.





	1. Omake One - Life and Team of Aburame Shibi

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by donstehly2 on FF.net, a birthday gift of sorts.

Shibi was only a man. Sure, he was a ninja, a clan head to that! But he was also a husband, and a father ( _both biological and adoptive, if one counted Torune as well_ ). And because he was only a man, he was, like any other normal person, prone to making bad decisions. And him agreeing to have his name put as one of possible genin sensei this year? Now that was an epitome of bad life choices. The icing on a cake, really.

It started with simple 'what can go wrong' and spiraled down fast. Very fast. Because Shibi is betting his very life that he agreed on takin a team of genin, not devils. And one drama queen.

Having spent his genin and chūnin years basically constantly with Inuzuka Tsume, he knows how to handle one boisterous character, but two of them? No way in hell. Because Tsume's very own daughter – the very same one who still keeps calling him uncle in private and who he babysat more than he dares to count – turned out to be a goddamn enabler. To no one else than Uchiha Ren, dubbed Tsume v2.0 by him, so far breaking every single Uchiha stereotype there is.

By first month Shibi is fairly certain that his hair are greying. By second moth, he's downright desperate, because those children ( _those two girls, at least_ ) crawled straight out of hell and no one convinces him otherwise. No way in hell.

And this just might be the reason as to why he finds himself, wife, kids and all, at semi-formal dinner in Hyūga compound, with every intention on calling on a debt on his ex-teammate, just to free himself of his Devil Team for at least a week. He and his wife will be having anniversary soon, and honestly this is the best time to temporarily free himself of the brats without raising suspicion. He's proud of his plotting.

"I have heard that you have a request you wish to ask me?" Hiashi asks later, after the dinner, when Hinata, Shino and Torune huddle together in a corner and conspicuously whisper among each other. Shibi is willing to bet that this newfound friendship is Ren's doing. Even Neji is hovering around.

"Yes, I do," Shibi agrees. "It might seem trivial, but I would be very grateful if you took my place as Team Four jōnin instructor for period of two weeks. My wife and I have anniversary soon, our tenth, and she demanded that I will help her plan the celebration. I hope you understand."

"I am a clan head, Shibi, don't forget that," Hiashi says, and Shibi fights down a eyeroll.

"So am I, old friend," he answers. "And I do manage to divide my time between my team, their missions and my clan. And you have always been reliable person. I would ask Tsume, but we both know her, and that…"

"Is not the best of ideas, and not because Hana is her daughter," Hiashi agrees. "Fair enough, old friend. For the sake of our friendship and work. I miss past times, you know? From before either of us had a clan to lead. I actually enjoyed our missions together, even if it meant longer periods of being exposed to Tsume."

Shibi can't quite muffle a snort. "Trust me, I miss those times, too."

He wasn't a sensei to two devils and one drama queen then.

"Also, how hard can teaching three children be?" Hiashi asks.

Shibi wisely keeps quiet. _I asked that very same thing myself, brother_ , he thinks instead.

* * *

Shibi sincerely thought Hiashi to be better than… This. Whatever this was. He thought the Hyūga clan head would **at least** last three days. And yet, here Hiashi was, perfect hair in disarray, kimono actually charred and still smoking, and face positively furious. No longer than half a day into their ordeal.

"What is the meaning of this!" Hiashi hisses. "This team of yours, they-"

"Razed yet another training ground with fireballs the size of house and mini-cerberus?" Shibi asks, cocking his head. "Well, that sounds like regular morning," he shrugs, and turns his attention back to the catalogue. His wife tasked him with choosing the best dishes. Celebrating a decade together happens only once, after all.

"You…!" Hiashi, the Hyūga composure be damned, points a finger at him, "you knew?!"

" _How hard teaching three children can possibly be_?" Shibi quotes, looking rather smug from behind his glasses. "I asked myself the very same thing, old friend. And I got them. And lasted two months before losing it. And you have promised to take care of them for two weeks, no take-backs. I dread what would happen if I left them with Tsume."

Hiashi looks thoughtful, especially about the last statement. Remembering Ren and her chakra reserves ( _Hiashi is willing to bet that the girl had an Uzumaki ancestor three or so generations back ,there's no other explanation_ ), giddily spewing D-Rank fire techniques left and right. He remembers Hana and her three dogs who would morph into one huge, three-headed beast. He remembers Hibiki who, after initial mortification that his own clan head is _here oh my god what do I do started_ whining about his demon teammates and tried ( _and actually almost managed_ ) to keep up. Worse yet, he remembers that ridiculous game of tag they got him into playing ( _Shibi-sensei always does that with us, and if we catch him, he treats us dinner_ ). This is actually what got his kimono charred.

"Is this true that if they catch you in your game, you treat them dinner?" he asks finally.

"Ren has an appetite of an Akimichi," Shibi chuckles. "Did they catch you?"

"No, but it was close. If not for my Byakugan-" Hiashi huffs. "How do you do that, you're constantly with them and yet don't go mad."

"Practice, I think?" Shibi cocks his head. "But where are they now?"

"I got them a batch of D-Ranks they are to complete by dawn."

"They aren't going to like that," Aburame clan head says. "You need to inspire at least a bit of respect in them. Ren in particular, she acts as a leader figure. Hana has a lot of say, but she ultimately follows the Uchiha. Hibiki, though, has no say whatsoever."

"Uchiha Ren," Hiashi hisses through his gritted teeth, "looked actually happy that she burned my clothing. She's insane!"

"She loves burning things. I believe it's an Uchiha thing. She once joked that Uchiha way of solving problems was burning it until it stopped being a problem. Her cousin, Sasuke, seems wholeheartedly agree to this ideology, if dummies on training ground seven are any indication."

Hiashi looks sour. Sourer than usual. Shibi has to fight with his everything to not to chuckle, actually. He wonders how long with Hyuga clan head hold up until he actually does go for Tume.

(Hiashi managed to get through the whole of four days. Fifth day he already regretted his decision, as Tsume was equally as giddy about destruction as two girls.)


	2. Omake Two - Untouchable Mistake

Shimura Danzo was having very, very bad day. But then, for past months, he couldn't remember which was even remotely passable as neutral. He was sourer and more bitter than usual, more demanding and less forgiving. And the source of his foul mood?

A mistake named Uchiha Ren.

Itachi was to kill them all. All, except for Sasuke, and yet, here she was, running around like a carefree kid pretending to be a ninja. He would have removed her when she was still bedridden-

If he knew she survived to begin with. But no, Hiruzen was growing wary of him. If anything, the fool suspected that Danzo actually had a part in the Massacre – and this was why he kept Uchiha Ren under such tight protection. To the point he allowed her to live in his estate, actually.

No problem, Danzo thought then. She would be taken care of when she was left to her own.

Except, he miscalculated.

He should've grown wary when she started spending time with Inuzuka heir, but he wrote it off as need to socialize. Pathetic, he thought then. But afterwards, the heir's younger brother came to play. Kyuubi vessel. Nara, Akimichi, Aburame, Hyūga- Hound and Tenzo, one of most efficient ANBU the village had, and Genma, one of most effective assassins, perhaps in history.

Before long, Uchiha Ren was surrounded with people – clan heirs – that would notice if she suddenly went missing. That would not only notice, but investigate. From a mere pebble on his road, to a full-blown nuisance. One he couldn't be rid of. Inuzuka Tsume seemed to share her children's sentiments, Hyūga Hiashi was scoffing as always, but him not forbidding his daughter to spend time with Uchiha was equivalent of open agreement. Nara Shikaku found the girl quite interesting, if brash, and Akimichi Choza, on behalf of his son, was very much capable of praising her to the heavens.

And Aburame Shibi. The leader of her team. Oh how much blood of his she rot – but even he seemed to, in Aburame way, to develop fondness of her.

And suddenly, the nobody that Uchiha Ren should have been became Uchiha Matriarch, the Clan Head with her own place at the council. With much more influence – even if it was influence from the future – than she should have had. Ever.

And Shimura Danzo couldn't do anything about her because of it. Because that would raise questions. Too many questions asked by too attentive people, which would in turn lead to too many things coming to light. Things that were to remain in the dark.

Shimura Danzo hated the nuisance that was Uchiha Ren. The nuisance that caught him talking to Aburame Torune and Shibi, and somehow the very next day every single Aburame seemed to know him. Not only know, but he knew when someone considered him a threat.

Shimura Danzo hated the nuisance that was Uchiha Ren, and she proved to be untouchable to him by almost all means.

He could only hope that accidents he orchestrated on her future missions would lead to a tragic accident. He smirked to himself. Yes, that would be good.

(He didn't notice small Joro Spider perched in the corner of his office. He never did – insects were insects, and they were noticed only, if they had chakra, like Aburame insects. And thus, the spider slid down the wall soundlessly and, through the crack in the wall, vanished without being noticed, as only spider or a cat could.)

* * *

Uchiha Ren allowed her face to warp into an expression that had too much teeth to be a smile, as she gently stroked the back of a small Joro Spider perched on her shoulder. With how the creature was positioned – with its legs on her head, and its head near to her ear – one might thing that the spider was whispering her secrets.

But alas, it was but a spider. What it could do anyway?

(If asked later, Ren would claim that spiders did, in fact, whisper her secrets – and nobody would believe her. Because _, silly, spiders don't know any secrets_.

And her grin would only turn feral in answer.)

 


	3. Omake Three - Soulmate AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what am I doing, except that I'm stressed before my first exam which is tomorrow. That and I'm an idiot and not-so-subtly foreshadowing a pairing that won't happen until about ten years in-story time. Welp.

Ren is pretty sure she might have broken the universe. The second she was out of hospital, on the fifth day of her newfound semi-reincarnated existence in body twenty years younger, she was in the library, reading up on every single thing about soulmates. And she learned that yes, they could and would vanish if the soulmate died.

But it never, ever changed.

So, what is poor Ren to do when she woke up with _I'm so sorry, are you okay?!_ Written in pretty, curvy style curling loosely around her forearm, and then, suddenly, before her very eyes it dissolved and reassembled itself into _They sent one of the last Uchiha? My, what a honor._ written in very firm and precise letters?

Well, yes, it was much more exuberant and much harder to miss, but-

But where she came from, soulmates didn't exist. And the second she was here, she apparently broke one of very grounding rules? But she was once again eleven, almost twelve, and not really interested in all this soulmate bullshit.

She also very sincerely doubted that it would be able to change the fact that she was simply incapable of romantic love.

But, buried under all the new responsibilities, caring for her little cousin, being a ninja and governing her clan, mostly lands and investments, but still, Ren had very soon forgotten all about the writing around her forearm.

Until, nearly seven years later, it came back to bite her in the ass.

* * *

It's intriguing, to say at least; his soulmark, the very same one that disappeared some fifteen or so years ago with the death of Hatake Sakumo (and wasn't that a blow), suddenly cut itself around his forearm, writing angry and fast, somewhat messy yet mostly neat. It was sudden and surprising, and he, the sciencist above them all, could not figure it out.

Nevertheless, the writing of _Oh my Jashin, stop making such fuss, princess, we're here to save you!_ did amuse him. As if he, the infamous Orochimaru of the Sannin would ever need saving.

* * *

"Oh my Jashin, stop making such fuss, princess, we're here to save you!"

"They sent one of the last Uchiha? My, what a honor."

A pause. A blink. And then-

"Don't tell me that Orochimaru of the Sannin is your soulmate, Ren," Aburame Torune bemoans, sending another swarm of his signature and very deadly, special kikaichu at yet another guard.

And Ren? Ren can only laugh as she breaks the chakra-repressing chains holding rather stunned Orochimaru and picking him up with ease.

"On the other note, why am I even surprised?" Torune sighs, deftly beheading a guard taking a swing for the Uchiha with his tantō. "You're insane like that, figures it would take your bloody equal to match that! As if you don't surround yourself with enough crazy people, what with Guy and mini-Guy, not to mention our resident artist-bomber-!"

Ren doesn't stop laughing, borderline hysterical, raspy and with distinct yet clear tone that can be labeled only as 'insane'.

Orochimaru sighs, because he's tired and his everything hurts, but he thinks that maybe, just maybe, having someone like her as a soulmate won't be as tragic as he initially thought.


	4. Omake Four - How to: win a magical war without even really trying.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just- I blame PlunnyBreeder and us talking on tumblr. I guess everybody has their own evil mastermind working on the sidelines, yeah? Nevertheless, I have no idea how this thing had happened, and, uh. Yeah. I literally wrote this at 1AM when I was supposed to be sleeping.
> 
> I plan on more Harry Potter crossovers, but none so stupid as this... Whatever this is.
> 
> Also I headcanon Oro as being of the 'fuck-the-gender' policy, just writing Oro as 'he' because I'm stupid and need to actually think about pronouns next time.

It starts with a bitch slap.

Well, actually, first there are two local idiots, Kakashi and Obito, fucking around with the Kamui. Of course, things inevitably goes wrong and someone gets misplaced.

Nevertheless, aside from that detail, it really does start with a bitch slap. Ren honestly had never thought Orochimaru would ever actually slap someone across the face, but there's a first time for everything. However, keeping in mind that the person that now has a reddening imprint of Orochimaru's slender palm on their cheek is, in fact, Voldemort, interrupted in the middle of his gloating during the Battle of Hogwarts, and now very much stunned, along with everybody else-

Well.

Ren is pretty sure she is going to murder the morons when they finally deign to get them back. And they will, of course, otherwise Sasuke would sic Sakura and Hana on them, and those two angry and determined to make your life miserable is not something Ren would wish on anyone, not even Danzo… Well, maybe Danzo. But he deserves all the bad things the world can through at him anyway, so, yeah. But she wouldn't wish it on Madara, even at the peak of his insanity!

But back to important things. Let Ren state this fact once more, to underline that it is, in fact, important to take note of: Orochimaru of the Sannin has just slapped Voldemort in front of all his Death Eaters as well as the resistance, after having appeared out of thin air about two minutes prior.

And given that right now he is mad to the point that his normally serenely neutral face has been replaced with a frown and his yellow eyes glint dangerously, well. Even Ren, for all her annoying nature, has never really managed to tick him off, and look here: about a minute of Voldemort's ranting, and here is Oro, ready to slaughter everyone in a fit of rage.

(Ren makes a very wise decision to not try to mediate. Finding herself on the wrong end of Kusanagi is so not worth it. And finding herself on the couch for the next month is even worse. So she just lets it go.)

She's pretty sure she hears a cricket at some point.

"How dare you–" Voldemort interrupts the silence, and is interrupted by another slap, carried out with a nearly deafening echo. The faceless man- creature-thing looks torn between shocked and offended.

"You'd be wise to shut up, Mister Generic Bitchface," Ren can't help but chirp at that, rocking on her heels. "He's killed more people for fun than you've ever seen."

"And you haven't?" Ren doesn't even bother to hide her sigh of relief when Orochimaru directs his attention to her, more amused than angry.

"Given that you have a good thirty plus years on me, and have fought in three wars, well. I don't think I can beat your numbers," she shrugs. "Although I'm **trying** , okay! It's just so hard to find cannon fodder to mince these days, and Hana says I shouldn't kill civilians…"

"And you listen to her?" he asks, eyebrow rising.

"Sometimes!"

And that's the cue for the Death Eaters to start firing spells at them. Given that every one of them gets answered with a kunai or shuriken of alarming accuracy and enough strength to not only go into the skull, but through it- well. It perhaps isn't supposed to turn out like that, but soon a very shocked Voldy is the only one standing on the wrong side.

"Ruuuude," Ren boo's at the corpses, and then looks at the still stunned Voldemort. For a moment she wonders whether they've broken his brain, but then shrugs it off-

And promptly slaps the faceless-creature-man-thing herself.

Orochimaru actually snorts at that, and doesn't even try to pretend he didn't. Hell, he's still smirking when she turns to him.

"What?!"

"Nothing," Orochhimaru says. "Nothing at all."

Obito chooses this moment to jump out of the swirling vortex that suddenly appears next to them. He opens his mouth to say something, only to close it with an audible snap. He looks at the bodies, then at the duo, and at the bodies again. Finally, he throws his hands up with a loud "what the fuck, you were gone for five minutes!" and Ren can't help her burst of rather alarming cackling.

They go back, of course.

Voldemort, for having been thrice slapped, never recovers and proves an easy, unmoving target as he keeps dumbly staring off into the space they'd recently vacated.


	5. Omake Five - Mermay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little something waaay beck from May, finished only now, because no chapter this week. I hate politics, and you deserve better than the half-assed piece of shit I'm about to deliver anyway. Also, grab some Discord CPwUR server:
> 
> https://discord.gg/WQ7mNwk

"I keep telling you, if you want legs, just ask and I'll ask Oro for a spell that'll turn you something more humanoid for a day or something," Ren sighs, allowing the threads, stronger than steel and softer than silk, that make up her hammock to sway in the air, rocking her above the water.

"And what good would it do?" Kisame asks, swimming circles underneath her with an ease that only a true aquatic creature could attain. Ren is always rather jealous of her friend – her body is completely unsuited for water, let alone swimming. She has lungs, an entire respiratory system, basically, on the lower side of her abdomen, for crying out loud, and appendages absolutely not suited for mobility in water.

"I dunno," she waves her hand. "Maybe it would finally resolve your issues so you would stop your rather sad to watch pining after my pretty-feathered cousin," she snorts, and then shrieks in outrage when Kisame uses his tail to splash her with water. The merman only cackles at her expression – almost as bad as a cat splashed with water, really – and dives underneath the surface before she could even retaliate.

"Fucking fish boy!" she hollers, forcing her massive body to move with a grace and speed something her shape and size surely shouldn't possess, and makes her way over to one of the old cherry trees between which her hammock hangs.

"Love you too, brat," Kisame says with wide grin when he resurfaces. To be honest, it seems to be the only thing he resurfaced for, and Ren hisses at him loudly, mandibles flaring open, waving two pairs of forelegs in the air. However, she can do absolutely nothing to the merman in water, and he knows it, so he just laughs at her and dives under again.

Ren huffs and crawls away, firmly set on her course.

* * *

Orochimaru sighs and looks at Ren again, as if unsure what to think of her most recent 'brilliant' idea. Given that this is a rather common occurrence, it's nothing to worry about, really. Except maybe for the fact that he, once again, seems very fed up with her antics.

"So, let me get this straight," he says slowly, looking at the woman. "You want me to craft a spell that will periodically turn Kisame humanoid instead of aquatic as he is now, and then secretly administer it, so that you can cackle at his flailing?"

Ren grins so wide, he could see her tucked in mandibles. If Orochimaru was fazed by things like these, he would most likely be alarmed. Alas, he's just a rather powerful sorcerer with little to no desire for social interactions, thus he just sighs at Ren one more time and turns to the shelves full of books and scrolls.

He isn't even halfway to it when he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. Had this been anyone else, said person would already have a missing head, or at the very least his fangs in the shoulder, for such violation of his privacy, but Ren-

Ren is a monster, just like him. And, just like him, she embraces it, wholly. She understands and never judges, unless you do something absolutely dumb, so it's okay. It's okay to open up a bit, because she's not Tsunade or Jiraiya, not going to be scared off, or run away from the responsibility. For all her flaws, Ren is surprisingly responsible.

She's also unbelievably warm, which may or may not be the deciding factor for the cold-blooded creature he is.

"Do you want me to craft the spell or not?" Orochimaru asks instead of trying to get free, relaxing in the hold despite himself. Ren hums into his shoulder, and he can feel her smile.

"Just a second, okay? I still think it's ridiculous for a snake to be this cuddly," she murmurs, and Orochimaru scoffs.

"Excuse you, I'm a naga, not a snake."

"Half-snake, then."

"Are you a mere half-spider that way?"

"I hate you."

"This is not how you hold someone you hate."

* * *

Kisame is definitely going to murder Ren. Drown her, preferably. The second he gets a hold of her, she's a dead spider. It's not his fault that those two appendages called legs are so not made for moving. Ren makes it appear so ridiculously easy, and she has about ten limbs to control, arms not included, and he can't even manage two.

"Could you, like, stop making a fuss and maybe dress up or something?" Ren asks from where she's hanging upside-down from one of the massive trees native to this forest. They've been like that ever since the Kodamas of the Senju clan settled here thanks to them forming an alliance with the Uzumaki Kitsunes. The Uchiha – who were mostly Tengu, aside from Ren, in all her Tsuchigumo glory – had been rather vocal about that, but the foxes are fucking frightening, so they could do nothing. Ren herself is rather adored there, especially since the Uzumaki prince, Naruto, has the tendency of trailing after her like a lost puppy.

"I hate you!" Kisame hisses, still entirely blue and with gills and even webbed fingers. Only his tail is split in two, actually.

"Dress up before Obito gets here," Ren rolls her eyes. "Do you want him to see you like this?"

Kisame barely manages to throw a dark blue yukata on and doesn't even fully tie the belt before there's a sound of flapping wings and a scarred, odd-eyed Tengu lands between the trees. He looks at Ren, about to say something, but then his eyes turn to Kisame and he freezes.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," Ren chirps sweetly. "Kisame, remember, Oro's spell lasts exactly twenty-four hours. If you need it re-applied, you know how to call for us! Have fun!"

And then she's gone, moving far faster than her massive spider half should allow, especially when going through the dense forest.

* * *

"Obito is moving," Madara says the very next day as Ren is just about to leave compound to go and see Hana. She stops and turns to one of the oldest Tengu in the clan and adapts the most innocent expression she can muster.

"He is?" she asks.

"Yes," Madara growls. "Is this yet another of your dumb ideas?"

"Maybe," Ren shrugs. "It's not like you can do anything about it. You like pining after your best friend's younger brother, he likes fish. I, personally, like snakes."

"I do not like Tobirama!" Madara squawks, wings flaring and feathers ruffled.

"Yeah, you don't," Ren shrugs. "You're so deeply in love with him that it doesn't qualify as like anymore."

She's ducks just in time to avoid a fireball soaring above her head and leaves to the sound of Madara's not-really-coherent yelling and her own cackles.


	6. Omake Six - Monmusu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not as back as I'd like, Uni is still a bitch, I still hate phonetics with burning passion and apparently can't speak english - but have an omake!

The faint sound of something slithering on the floor and the carpet is enough to instantly get her awake and aware. She wouldn't be a good agent if she wasn't on her guard even when asleep now, would she? But aside from a slightly deeper, longer breath and the flexing of the fingers of her right hand on which her head currently rests, she doesn't move. Which may or may not be due the dull, pulsating pain in her tightly bandaged left hand. That, and she doesn't want to aggravate the injury that took a six-hour-long surgery to be righted.

But that might also be because the surgeons struggled to pull out all the shrapnel pieces, put her bone back together, and minimize the damage done to her nerves, muscles, veins, and tendons. And wasn't that a fun experience, seeing as she was on sedatives, but awake, for about half of it. It wasn't her fault that Hana is on holiday, Sakura buried under paperwork due day before, and Tsunade on a week-long date-trip, and that other medics aren't competent enough to produce acceptable results without her guidance!

She murmurs something incoherent, slipping back into a blissful state of half-consciousness upon realizing that it's her sheets on her bed, in her room that smells distinctly like strawberries and a bit of daisies and forget-me-nots thanks to a few strategically placed fragrance dispensers. The slithering gets closer, and judging by the sound, it's something big.

Ren opens her eyes, facing the wall, with her back to the door, and sighs heavily. The room is still dark, the curtains drawn. With the lack of light on the fabric, she concludes that it's probably dark outside too.

"Finally caved in?" she mutters, then yawns. "What fucking time is it?"

"It always amazed me how fast you can shift between sleep and awareness," her intruder muses, avoiding answering either question. Ren rolls her eyes, but otherwise doesn't move. There's a shift in the mattress as it caves under an additional weight, and Ren shivers when the covers shift, letting cold air in, before falling down again to accommodate a second body.

Well, part of it, at least.

Ren doesn't fight another shiver, when said body presses against her, cold hands around her waist and cold scales behind her legs. Praise be to whoever invented long, baggy pajama pants and shame on Ren for not wearing her thick, fluffy socks.

"Poor Oro can't generate enough warmth on his own?" Ren coos, and yelps when cold lips press to the bare skin of the back of her neck, where her hair ends but her oversized T-Shirt doesn't quite reach. "For crying out loud, Orochimaru, I  **will**  kick you out."

Orochimaru just chuckles, lips still pressed to the nape of her neck. The air he breathes out tickles, but doesn't make it any less cold.

"You're the one who took me in," he says softly, and Ren sighs, deep and theatrical.

"Yes, because you grew on me like a parasitic fungus," she groans. "And then I got hit in action, almost died, almost lost my entire arm when it became apparent that I'll pull through and now I'm on half a year of medical leave to recuperate. And I would have lost my arm if the medics didn't follow my instructions. Honestly, I've never valued spending time with Hana and Sakura more. How could I know that dude had turned himself into a human bomb?"

"I say you should be grateful that your arm is the only thing you were in danger of losing, with that stunt," the snake murmurs. "Next time, do take Deidara. He knows his way around explosives."

"Mhm, maybe," Ren says with a small, fond smile. "But will you deny that you refused to move away from the door to the surgery room I was in?"

"I was freezing. I can't move well when my body temperature drops."

"And why, pray tell, did it drop in the first place?"

He doesn't answer. Asshole.

Not like he has to, Ren could hear him yelling at people even over her own yelling at the incompetent child-surgeon over her open arm and fractured bone. She might've really freaked them out in the process, but Ren has suffered way too many injuries to bother caring for anything else but having them heal properly.

* * *

Orochimaru is a Naga of rather exotic appearance, with long black hair, golden eyes and nearly paper-white skin, with purple markings around his eyes and a 20-foot-long scaly tail of pure muscle, only a few shades darker. This, and his manner of holding himself gave him something of a... reputation. His vague and cryptic way of speaking tends to make people uneasy around him and- well, he can be plain creepy. Being a snake doesn't help.

Therefore, nobody really wanted to host Orochimaru. Many tried, for that must be said, but he was always ultimately returned after less than a month. Jiraiya, one of their best agents – everyone still wonders how that happened, the man is a train wreck – went so far as to call Orochimaru a devil's spawn. But that, everybody concluded, was because Orochimaru foiled any and all of his temporary host's lecherous tendencies.

Ren had been abroad when he first came in, solving a case of illegal mermaid trafficking with her two cousins, Shisui and Obito –  _which, long story short, ended with Obito choosing to permanently host one of mermen, which in turn had Ren and Shisui betting their jobs it was not at all a platonic relationship_  – and they met only after Orochimaru was past the first few failed host tries. And, for some reason, Ren – who is described as overly temperamental and even borderline aggressive, completely unfit to work with people she doesn't know and like – and Orochimaru, the aloof Naga who seems to either creep everyone out, or annoy them with his somewhat smug, patronizing way of speaking and tendency to treat everyone as idiots, struck up a rather easy friendship. Disliking the atmosphere at the temporary lodging quarters and the uneasy looks of other monsters, Orochimaru would remain in Ren's office for most of the day, which she didn't mind, even if she was out saving people from other people, and breaking said other people's noses. Ren never let anyone stay in her office unsupervised if that someone isn't Hana or Genma, whom she's known for more than half her life. Which speaks volumes of their relationship.

Orochimaru's wannabe-hosts come and go during that time, too, but these periods were much shorter, some not even lasting past the initial interview – solely by Orochimaru's 'initiative'. He would, however, vehemently deny any kind of attachment to one Uchiha Ren, even under threat of torture.

His actions, though, speak for him instead. Loudly.

Like when he stays by the door to the surgery room she was in for the entirety of the time she was there, first yelling at the surgeons to direct them in fixing her arm properly, and then, after the surgeons were left at a point they were at least semi-competent in, finally allowing herself a dose of soporific.

Her injury meant she would be taken off any kind of duty for at least three months, and off active duty for about six, but most likely longer. And any kind of fighting for about a year. Which made Ren, being Ren, very unhappy.

( _"You shouldn't have covered Kakashi with your body, you goof," Hana said once she came back from holidays. "You could've just pushed him away from the line of fire. But no, you had to go and be dramatic."_ )

While she recuperated after surgery that nearly ended with her losing her left arm, Orochimaru found himself moping. There's no denying that he enjoys her company, and cuts his host stays short in order to bother her. The leave, however, would see her away from the Headquarters for  **months**.

But it turns out he'd worried for nothing. The first thing she does upon waking up is file the paperwork to host him. No hesitation.

And Orochimaru soon discovers that, while her house is usually chilly, she herself is very warm and a good source of heat, especially in the morning. And if he presses his body a bit too close to hers, she never says anything. And if she doesn't like it, he would be back in the cold, unwelcoming waiting rooms of Headquarters faster than he could blink.

* * *

"Gods know you need someone sensible to take care of you even when you're at home, otherwise you wouldn't bother going for real groceries and get fast food instead – and I know you can cook, and do it well!" Hana huffs, annoyed but still re-wrapping Ren's shoulder with single-minded skill that only someone who had done that enough times for it to become completely mechanical can achieve. Ren is not sure if the fact that she was on the receiving end of this treatment most of those times is actually a positive thing. "Good thing you took in Orochimaru. At least one person in this household thinks now."

Ren loves Hana. She really does, with her whole heart. It doesn't change the fact that the medic's remarks still bite. But then, Ren supposes, it's fair. In all honesty, the fact that she's known Ren for most of her life and been her voice of reason for all that time, because Ren's own is on permanent vacation, and her hair hasn't gone as grey as Kakashi's yet is an accomplishment in itself.

Orochimaru, sitting right next to them with his massive tail laid loosely around the couch, smiles smugly, and Ren huffs, rolling her eyes.

But she leans into him while the wraps are replaced with a contented sigh, much to Hana's amusement. Ren lets it slide.


	7. Omake Seven- WoW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still no chapter but I also wanted Gul'dan to suffer. So here have some 2k words in Durotan's perspective of CPwUR-verse.
> 
> (Yes, it's movie Warcraft Verse.)

They had come here to find a new home - instead, they found hell, filled with devils unwilling to share.

Or so Durotan would be tempted to say, if it weren't for the fact that it was them who had invaded and attacked without provocation. At first, they – Blackhand, mostly – were disappointed at the lack of opposition, of warriors to fight.

But then warriors came, and with them – complete, utter defeat.

They are smaller, much more lithe than Orcs, each and every one of them. But the speed and strength they possess are unmatched by even the greatest of warriors. They wield deadly weapons of all shapes and sizes and use magic that is not magic. Some of them breathed fire, some called upon winds so strong they tore trees out of the ground. Some parted the earth with a mere gesture, some could make water do their bidding, and some brought down the wrath of heaven itself, deadly lightning carrying the song of a thousand birds.

They are war-honed monsters. Men and women, young and old. None of them hesitated to cut down an enemy, as if death was all they knew.

Now it is all said and done – what remains of the Horde are rounded and bound, those who would still fight suddenly finding themselves with no means to move. A boy, a child still, really, with hair of molten gold and a smile brighter than the sun had paint complicated runes on their skin and suddenly they couldn't move, couldn't speak. All the while the boy is laughing with his companion, a pale-skinned, dark-haired youth, barely older than him, with clothes drenched in orc blood, hand on the handle of the blade that had claimed too many of Durotan's kin tonight. The Pale Raven, as Chieftain came to call him, is wearing a small, fond smile as he speaks to his companion, as if he did not cut through many, many lives not so long ago.

They are soon joined – and scolded – by a girl with short, obnoxiously pink hair. Normally, she would be overlooked by all, but Durotan knows better. He had seen her shatter the beginning of the portal Gul'dan had them build,  _with just one punch_. He watches as she grabs the Raven by the ear and suddenly her hands flicker green, like Fel but brighter, and the cut on the boy's face closes the second the light touches it.

It's definitely not Fel. Fel kills all it comes in contact with, and this power here is a power used to mend wounds and, by all means, restore life. He had caught glimpses of it before, when people dressed differently than the others, in pale, open coats, herded the few wounded to the side, and their hands glowed green, too. Those people who were herded away soon came back, the only signs of their wounds being the cuts in their clothes.

One of them had had his hand chopped off. Now he is walking around, sleeve missing but hand attached and functioning. It's a miracle, if Durotan had ever seen one.

But, despite them all being warriors, there is one person that would be burned into Durotan's memories forevermore.

A demon. A wicked beast.

A mane of short, black, absolutely untamed hair, eyes wild, red, and monstrous, crying tears of blood and lungs breathing fire. Blade clutched in hand, clothes drenched in orc blood and monsters even his worst nightmares couldn't concoct by her side, she had cut through the Horde with a frightening, single-minded focus, calling upon fire, wind and the lightning.

She cut Blackhand down like a rabid dog before he even took a full swing at her, his head, face eternally frozen in shock, rolling off his shoulders.

Durotan, who has never believed in the devil, found himself rectifying those beliefs.

Now her eyes are black like a void as she stands next to a man with blue skin and a giant, wrapped sword on his back, both facing Garona and speaking with her. It's always impressive, how she can learn any language around her within just a few weeks. And now, she is the only one who could communicate with these people.

Judging by their expressions, they did not like what they were hearing.

Blue Man says, or rather spits, something in their tongue, and nods at Gul'dan. The wizard is still alive, somehow, bound with the same runes the golden-haired boy drew on the others. Devil-Woman looks at the wizard, too, her eyes narrowing, and then she says something back to the Blue Man, who smiles, showing off rows of uncomfortably sharp teeth. Durotan doesn't know what the man is – he isn't sure he  **wants**  to know, especially when he unhooks the massive, wrapped sword from his back, walks to Gul'dan and places it on the wizard's back. For a second nothing happens, but then Durotan can't help but flinch when razor-sharp spikes cut through both the wraps and Gul'dan's skin.

It must do something, because the wizard suddenly can move-

But all he does is scream. It's a shrill, piercing sound that an animal makes, as the Monster-Sword eats through his skin, muscle, and bone. No warrior pays the scene more attention than a quick glance before resuming whatever their tasks were. One of the monsters Devil-Woman called upon comes running, clicking something in their tongue, and she only raises an eyebrow at the bright blue spider that's easily at her eye level. Beside him, Draka shifts uncomfortably, clutching Go'el closer to her chest. Spiders of such size are bound to make anyone nervous.

Anyone except for Devil-Woman and Blue Man, apparently, as they both chuckle at something the monster says, completely ignoring the agony-induced screams of the pile of flesh that had once been Gul'dan. The monster is followed, at a much slower pace, by a tall, dark-haired person with eerie, yellow eyes that has Durotan baffled. Is this a man? Or a woman? He doesn't know, but even from here he can sense that this person is dangerous. Perhaps even more so than the Devil-Woman, who inches closer to them and snakes an arm around their waist with a smile.

The eerie person says something that makes Garona stiffen, before her eyes harden and she nods, and walks away. Towards Durotan.

She stops by them, sighs heavily and sits on the ground, looking towards what's left of Gul'dan. Blue Man grabs the hilt of the monster sword and yanks it upwards, maybe a bit too forcefully. The sword absorbs what remaining flesh it came out with before returning to its previous state – except now its wraps are shredded and bloodied.

Durotan pointedly turns his attention to Garona.

"They're not happy with us," she says and turns to look at him. "But they're also not willing to slaughter us all. At least not their leaders. There have been... votes."

"Votes?" Draka asks, raising an eyebrow, and Garona nods.

"Some of their elders are wholeheartedly supporting just cutting us all out. Thankfully Ren, the one with the giant spider," Garona points at the Devil-Woman, "is against it, and she has enough backing to shut the elders up. Something about executing a meddling old fool before. She didn't go into detail. It doesn't matter – what matters is she's willing to give us a chance. A chance to settle down and live. But for that, we need a leader to negotiate with them."

"And you came to me?" Durotan asks, stealing a glance at where Devil-Woman – Ren, apparently – and her eerie partner are standing. They're unabashedly staring right back at them while talking in their tongue.

"Yes," Garona hisses, getting his attention. "Not only because you're Chieftain – but because you're calm, logical, and not as war-driven as the others. You saw what happened to Blackhand! Our people need you now, more than anyone we've ever needed. Gul'dan put us in this mess, and you must pull us out. It's either that or death. Ren might seem against bloodshed since she's standing up for us, but she certainly wouldn't mind it if push comes to shove. You are open to talking. So talk."

"There is no other way, is there?" he asks with a sigh, and Garona shakes her head.

"They are Nation honed and made for killing. They start training their children in this art when they learn to walk. They are born to kill, most of them," she says, looking at Ren, who is now leaning against the giant blue spider, hands laced together with her eerie friend.

"Who is that?" Durotan asks. "The person next to this Ren."

"That is Orochimaru," Garona says. "A War Hero. Powerful, but not quite sane. None of them are, but he is even less so. I heard him saying he'd love to cut one of us open to see how we work. Given how Ren looks at him, she might just allow it."

"Is she their leader?"

"No," Garona shakes her head. "She's just well-liked, apparently, and people listen to her. She's also surprisingly level-headed and will listen to us. If we go to her, she'll go to their leader. If she thinks our offer is acceptable."

"Okay then," he sighs, heaving himself up before helping Draka to her feet, and turns towards Garona. "Let's go and talk."

Up close Ren turns out to be even more formidable than from afar. Bigger than he estimated among other things, and along with that – the giant spider she's leaning on is also bigger. The foreign energy he feels in the air he can sense from her, too – it's much stronger than the wisps in the air but hers is also much more volatile, like an inferno raging right under her skin. Orochimaru's energy next to her is very calm, but also a very sinister, somewhat suffocatin. It's not reassuring.

Ren also turns out to be much younger than he had first estimated her to be. She can't be much older than two decades.

She raises an eyebrow at them, and then turns to Garona, speaking.

Not much happens, really. Garona already explained why they were here, and it turns out all that's left is rounding up the survivors and leading them to the settlement, and their leader.

Maybe not all is lost yet.

* * *

Their leader is a woman of rather petite form compared to nearly everyone around her, and mistakenly indicating weakness. Durotan, who has learned to read the strange energy of this land, can sense her power, steady as a mountain and deadly like raging waters. The man behind her is both easier and harder to read – he's tall, the second person he has encountered who can actually match the massive posture of Blue Man, whom he learns is Kisame, aside from a very loud and obnoxious man named Guy. He has stitches across his arms and face and hard, unnatural eyes that make Durotan shiver – but the energy around him is different, somewhat unnatural and constantly shifting.

The woman is tired and the odd table she sits by is loaded with stacks of thin paper, therefore Durotan keeps it short and prays for a miracle.

There aren't many orcs left from those who had come through the portal before its destruction at the punch of the unassuming pinkette, and with the death of Gul'dan there is no hope of bringing more. Durotan can only hope that without Fel their world would be reborn, for the sake of those who stayed. Those who came and still lived quickly agreed that Durotan take the leadership over them.

Mainly because Ren had made it clear she wouldn't listen to anyone but Garona, the only one who spoke their language, and Garona was adamant that she would take only Durotan's word into consideration. Garona overall seemed to stop caring about what others might possibly think, given that she is easily accepted into the fold of Ren's acquaintances. Ren likes oddities, apparently, if Orochimaru, Kisame, and now Garona are any indication – but it doesn't really matter. What matters is that Garona has taken to these people – Shinobi, they call themselves – like fish to water. When one of the hardier orcs threw himself at Garona fully bent on ending her life, Orochimaru stepped in and off-handedly beheaded him with the wickedly sharp sword he carried and didn't even skip a beat in continuing his conversation – like he'd just swatted a fly. He didn't even really twitch.

That man is frightening. Not to mention the snake coiled around his shoulders. That thing is dangerous.

But then again, Ren has two massive spiders wandering all over her face and head and doesn't seem to mind them the slightest – neither does anyone else, really.

The negotiations are tedious. Not only because Garona has to translate everything back and forth, but also because the Orcs have nothing to contribute, really. They have no real useful skills except for hunting, which is long since out of practice due to animal farms, and fighting – but, let's face the facts, they really aren't the supreme fighters at all. Ren so 'kindly' explained that the only one they could actually stand against is a 'genin' – which is basically the equivalent of a child right out of school, and even then they would have issues.

Therefore, they don't particularly have anything to contribute at all. In fact, even from a cultural point of view, they are quite barbaric.

In the end, however, they come to an agreement – they have three years to learn the language and craft to contribute, and law to not pose even an unintentional threat. If they fail, there would be use found for them otherwise, and Durotan could easily conclude that that way of contributing would most likely be hard physical labor.

* * *

Draka sighs, tapping a finger on her leather belt, looking rather impatiently at the road. Durotan can't help but smile as he walks over to her, placing an arm around her waist. Over the years she had developed a particular fondness for kimono shirts and loose ninja pants made from reinforced material, much more comfortable than what they wore before. The shirt, colorful with its koi pattern, suits her.

It wasn't easy, but they managed it. They found their place in this new, strange world, with whoever that wished to. Many did, but many also didn't – some of those who didn't ended up in prison. Some died of the injuries sustained fighting for whatever reason, some were simply killed for challenging the shinobi.

Draka found her calling in sewing, oddly enough, but the pay was good where she was employed, and the brand highly praised. Durotan tried many things in this new life, before eventually settling for smithing along with Ogrim. The physical labor was something they both knew and, in a ninja village, there was always a need for more and more weapons. Garona, surprisingly, took well to healing and was slowly but surely climbing the hospital hierarchy ladder.

And as for Go'el...

"Mother, father!" Draka tenses and then relaxes, smiling slightly as a green-and-gray blur bounds towards them with an impossible speed only to skid to a stop right before their porch. Go'el grins, eyes wide and sparkling, and he jumps in place pointing excitedly at his forehead. There's a cloth with a rectangular, carved metal attached to it, a swirling symbol Durotan had come to recognize very well.

"Congratulations, son," Draka smiles, and Go'el's smile only widens, and Durotan smiles too, as their son starts to happily chatter about team selections tomorrow. But, really, all he cares about right now is that his son is the first Orc to ever become a shinobi, and it makes him more proud than he has ever felt.


	8. Omake Eight - (worth more than) A Thousand Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **This omake is part of CPwUR Canon,** patching up some plot holes I've inadvertently created. (As a matter of clarification, the second segment happens somewhere in the middle of the first one? It's not chronological.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece has been beta'd for you by **hestia8693** , who deserves sainthood for the sole fact that she didn't run away screaming yet.
> 
> Alternatively titled 'Hoshigaki Kisame's walkthrough to friendship with Uchiha Ren via ye olden times version of Discord'
> 
> In which we finally look into the mysterious letters Ren mentions having been exchanging with Kisame for a while that are never really tackled, from Kisame's point of view.
> 
> (Both segments aren't exactly chronological, the second one happens alongside about the midway of the first.)

 

It starts like this: he meets a brat when attending the chūnin exams in Iwa. She singles him out, because he's easy to single out, and he's readying for yet another round of remarks, but of all the things she could possibly do, she asks to hug him.

What the actual hell.

The brat's name is Uchiha Ren, and in hindsight, Kisame probably should've known that people like her latch onto you with a single-minded dedication and are unlikely to actually let go if they do, ever. But what seems obvious now didn't seem so at the time, when he was still the same (insecure) Monster of the Mist, but not an acquaintance of one Uchiha Ren yet.

Funny, how just one relationship might change a person's viewpoint a little. But then, it's not really as if he could've expected to forge any sort of a bond with a brat, wielder of Bloodline Limit, from a village his own only had uneasy truce with, who hadn't even been born yet when he himself graduated Kiri's murderous exam. Or was she? Kisame wasn't sure how much older he was than her, but if she was thirteen, then it was eleven years. Which was- a lot, looking back, especially then, when she barely reached to his elbows.

(She wasn't hostile. She wasn't scared. She wasn't there to gawk at him. She was there because she genuinely wanted to know him as a person, and she gave her affection freely, and some part of Kisame, a childish, hidden, affection-starved part of him relished and bloomed in her light.)

It goes like this: the brat doesn't go away. She insists on spending time with him whenever she can, much to the chagrin of her teammates and sensei and to Momochi's amusement. She seeks him out, talks to him, and doesn't care about village attachments. She comes to him for swordsmanship, and-

He gives it to her. Just like that, because she's also the type of person who wears her heart on their sleeve for all to see and couldn't be bothered with all that secrecy. So she comes, she asks, and he gives her what she asks for because she explicitly tells him why she wants that, and who is he to refuse the luxury of honest truth?

Because, you know, Kisame hates lies. And Ren, he learned, might omit some things, skip some more, as she is bound to do like a good little killing machine from a half-enemy village with her own set of ghosts and blood under her nails, but other than that she's disarmingly honest with her intentions and thoughts.

And then the exams came to end, and they return to their respective homes (is Kiri even a home at this point, full of  _lies,_   _lies, lies-_ ), and he thought, that's it. He'll probably never see her again, never interact with her again. Soon she'll forget and he'll be overwhelmingly alone in the liar's world again.

And then Ren, the bright, aggressive child who has the potential of unpolished gem and her heart on her sleeves, sends a scroll-carrying spider his way.

It's the first. It's not the last.

(Kisame hates to admit it, but he gets to know Atsuo much better than some of his own summons over the years, as a testament of the sheer time the snappy white-kneed tarantula with a temperament of a moody, edgy preteen spends with him. Atsuo sometimes stays for days before departing, and despite what he says, Kisame knows that the summon is fond of him, lest he would have made good on the countless threats of bodily harm, mainly through biting.

He remembers Ren and her pet, the albino huntsman, and how it crawled all over her face. He found it weird then, and can't help but chuckle at it now, allowing Atsuo to do the exact same thing with him.)

It doesn't end like that: Kisame kills his master, takes his sword, and leaves the village to join the organization that the puppeteer behind Yagura directs him to, an organization which has a way to make the lying man's world a world of truth.

(The puppeteer lies, too, Kisame knows subconsciously, but he's familiar, something in him screams and yearns, because he knows this, the unruly black hair, and the fire underneath his skin, and the spinning red eye, Uchiha, Uchiha, Uchiha-

The man is not Ren, and yet Ren knows, of him, of his defection, of the man.

Ren knows many things, he learns over time. She doesn't speak of it unprompted, but doesn't shy away from answering when he asks her directly. She never tells him how she knows. Kisame doesn't ask, because he knows that she would tell him. Some things are better left unknown.)

(One day he will ask. Today is not that day.)

He joins Akatsuki, dons the black cloaks with white-rimmed red clouds, and his stack of letters grows and grows and grows. The sharks on the West Coast keep them safe for him, away from prying eyes and fingers, and he re-reads some of them when he feels low. Like the one that was half-written by Inuzuka Hana, Ren's best friend, in which the medic does nothing but complain about Ren, and then Ren's indignant reply both to him and at her friend. That one never fails to put a smile on his face.

Of course, Ren tells him about the infamous Uchiha Itachi. Nothing really important, just... unflattering. Very unflattering. So Kisame knows things about Itachi, like how he's an idiot with no ability to critically think for himself or others, and will endanger everything. He's an edgy, angsty teen with a stick up his ass who thinks he's important because he could do things others his age couldn't, but there Ren admits that his father was even worse and put a lot of unfair pressure on Itachi when he was a child. Kisame gets the feeling that she dislikes them both rather equally.

" _[...]Will probably jump off the bridge if told since, y'know, he was told to slaughter his entire family, and DID, by a man who attacked and stole the eye of his best friend who was trying to prevent a tragedy, and didn't bother to double-check the info. I bet he didn't even think about asking the Hokage for confirmation, that dipshit._ " (Ren's words, not his, but he understands. He likes that rant-y letter, it's entertaining. Is that even a word?)

Ren calls Itachi out on his faux-pacifism as well. The boy is supposedly pacifistic, yet went on multiple assassination missions. Kisame can see where she's coming from; either Itachi's ideals are feeble, and therefore so is his character (if Kisame was a pacifist, he'd die before laying a hand on another, he knows), or he's just a liar throwing himself a pity-party –  _oh, woe is me, they make me kill!_  (Again, Ren's words, not his. Fitting.)

And, you know, Kisame hates liars.

It's easy to conclude that Kisame has never met Uchiha Itachi before, yet he dislikes him already. And then, he meets him.

Better yet, he gets partnered with him. Joy.

Itachi looks vaguely like a constipated cat when he's trying to retain this cool and composed "mysterious man with a troubled past" thing that, according to shounen how-to's, should have hundreds swooning at his feet. His entire being screams 'I'm so tragic, pity me please'. The aura of someone who thoroughly fucked up and refused to acknowledge it, ever. Opting instead to blame others, or the world, for their own idiocy and lack of analytical skills. Or ability to think logically in general.

Ren might've colored her descriptions a lot. Kisame had figured as much reading them before. Her very obvious dislike – if not loathing – towards her cousin bleeds through in every sentence, causing her to have nothing good and all the bad things in the world to write about him. But seeing the real deal in person? His new partner is, simply put, an insufferable brat with an Edgy McTragic Complex. (Once more, Ren's words, but they fit. He is using this description now.)

Kisame, of course, isn't impressed. His Uchiha is much more fun, with a range of emotions way wider than a creepy doll with constipated face, and definitely doesn't need, or want, pity, instead opting to own her fuckups, bulldozing her way through life with a smile and fire in her eyes.

...

Wait, since when had Ren become 'his Uchiha' compared to all the others? Or his person in general? Huh. Well, she is, sort of, his first friend. The first one that actually, genuinely stuck, who didn't leave, who wasn't in it just to use him. Just, because Kisame honestly wouldn't mind doing her a favor or two, just as she expressed she wouldn't have minded doing the same, and through her, her spiders. Sage knows they part-time enough as errand runners as-is. Poor Atsuo, curled in the high neck of his coat, against the nape of his neck, come hell or high water.

Kisame wonders if their leader – going by the name of 'Pain', very endearing – is secretly a sadist, always sending them on missions to gather funds from... places... that aren't friendly, even for a seasoned, supernatural killers. He asks Ren, and she laughs at him. Predictably.

He writes about Itachi, too, and she asks him to tell the teen to walk off a cliff. He's almost tempted to.

* * *

"I've noticed you get letters sometimes," Itachi tells him once. They'd stopped at some ratty inn midway to where they're supposed to go and kill someone because the organization lacks funds again. They are such a hot mess, at times. "That spider of yours, vanishes sometimes and then reappears with a letter. It's a summon, isn't it? Someone else's."

"Atsuo is a he," Kisame points out absent-mindedly, gently pressing the spider to the mattress before he can pounce at the teen. Ren's spiders share her feelings towards her cousin, and Atsuo exists in a constant state of wanting to bite Itachi. Kisame would let him, honestly, if it wouldn't end up so problematic later. "And I fail to see how my private correspondence would concern you."

Deidara, the blond brat from Iwa that followed them, apparently got bored of his village and hightailed from it. He was ninja of Konoha now, Ren wrote, and Kisame chuckles. He could see why he would be.

"If it impedes the-"

"For the love of Jashin, be quiet," Kisame huffs. "Go back to sulking."

He swears he heard Itachi sniff at his flippant tone, but he doesn't exactly care. Since they're not traveling at the moment, he might as well use the momentary rest to quickly write his reply.

He's taken to carrying writing supplies with him, sealed in a little scroll, wherever he goes. It certainly proves useful.

"It is certainly suspicious," Itachi says finally, and Kisame sighs, looking at him at last.

"You know what, I don't care," he answers truthfully. "I'm a missing-nin, I have no more ties to Kiri. But this- this is important to me. This friendship, you know? Because it's the only one who stayed, no matter what. You seem to mistake a criminal organization for a village, Itachi. Don't. Yeah, we work in a semblance of order under a leader, but- ugh, why am I explaining this. Whatever. I have a friend from the outside. Had, since before I defected. She's not from Kiri, but it matters now about as much as it did before."

"Which is not a whole lot," Atsuo supplies helpfully, climbing onto Kisame's knee. "Are you gonna answer now?"

"Sure, just give me a moment."

He ignores Itachi for the rest of their stay at the inn. Thankfully, the teen gets the memo and doesn't bitch about the letters again.

Small mercies.

(This time it's him who sends a rant about Itachi to Ren, instead of the other way around.)


End file.
